The Early Years
by Indigo Flames
Summary: The Early Years explores Hermione's life from her first year through sixth year in an alternate universe where Voldemort had truly been defeated by a 1 year old Harry. Going from a bookish girl to a young woman, she grows without the constant fear for her and her friends' lives. Along the way, she befriends the most unlikely person, Draco. Told from Hermione's POV. Later Dramione
1. Prologue

Hi everybody! This is a story that I've been toying with for quite some time. This first chapter will be quite slow since it's a prologue, but I assure you that it will get more interesting!

Prologue

Hermione Granger was a precocious child. Fresh faced and slightly tanned from her trip to France with her lovely parents, the ten, almost eleven, year old girl dropped her luggage onto her bed and flopped down onto the cool wooden floors of her bedroom. Her mother watched her from the doorway.

"Don't forget to give me your laundry when you're done unpacking," Mrs. Granger gently reminded her daughter.

"Yes, mum. I'll get to it as soon as I catch my breath. The airport's always so hectic! I mean, I almost lost my page in my book!" the brown haired girl huffed. "People these days!"

Hermione continued with her rant, not noticing her mother giving a little chuckle and leaving the room. Her monologue about the airport terminal was just about to evolve into a speech about the importance of crowd control when the phone rang.

"I'll get it!" shouted the little girl as she shot up from the floor and dashed down the stairs.

Reaching it just before the last ring, Hermione snatched the phone from its cradle and brought it to her ear.

"Hello? This is Hermione Granger speaking," she announced.

"Hermione! Yes! You're finally back!" squealed a girl's voice through the speaker of the phone.

"Hello, Gwen! Yes, I'm back. I can't wait to meet up with you and Bryony once she comes back from holiday." Hermione's voice equaled in pitch to that of her friend.

"She's actually coming back tonight! I heard mum talking to dad about it. Something about a case that Uncle Evan just HAD to look over. Bryony must be quite upset about it." Gwen explained.

Bryony and Gwen were cousins. Hermione had met them through her parents. Gwen's mother had been in dental school with her parents and they were longtime friends. So when Hermione's family had moved back to their old house, it was natural for the two girls to become friends. Bryony, being only a year younger, also joined their group and the three of them were the best of friends.

"It's too bad that school's starting so soon," Gwen complained.

"It's not such a bad thing," quipped Hermione. "I only wish that we could be in the same school together."

"Well, that's just you. I'd rather not be in school. Besides, I wouldn't last a day at your school."

Unfortunately for Hermione, she went to a different school from Gwen and Bryony. Although all three girls were quite bright, Hermione was the only one who truly excelled at school. She had such high marks that she was in a private academy for gifted students. The young girl was planning on going to Wycombe Abbey for secondary schooling, but her parents knew somebody at Benendon, a different school, and were really pushing her to enroll there. She was stuck on the idea of Wycombe Abbey though, because it would keep her closer to home. Benendon was so far away that she would never have the chance to meet regularly meet Gwen and Bryony.

"Why don't you come over on Saturday?" Gwen's voice rang out cheerfully. "Bryony's coming over then and I'm sure your parents won't say no. Mum and dad suggested it, too. They'd loved to catch up with your parents."

Hermione agreed and quickly set the phone down to ask her mother. It wasn't hard for Mrs. Granger to say yes to spending a day at Gwen's, the adults were all great friends, and Hermione cheerfully picked up the phone to agree.

"Great! Then that's settled! I'll see you on Saturday!" Gwen practically shouted through the phone in excitement.

Once she said her goodbyes with Gwen, Hermione bounded back to her room with a renewed sense of purpose. She had to get all her chores done before the weekend, which was only a day away. Her luggage was unpacked in a flurry of motions and everything clean was placed in the drawers whilst the dirty clothes were thrown into the laundry basket.

Pulling out a thick volume from her knapsack, Hermione settled into her bed and began reading. It was close to bedtime and she wanted to get some light reading done. The title of the book glinted on the spine, _Gorillas in the Mist._

Friday passed by quickly for the little girl. She had finished the book by noon and was working on another volume that she had found at a used book store just before she had left for France. It was covered in dust and completely worn down; it was right up Hermione's alley. She had hoped to finish it before going to Gwen's house, but when Saturday morning came, the young girl had awoken to the darkness of the book covering her face. She had fallen asleep having only gone through half of the pages.

She didn't let it discourage her and decided to bring the book with her to read in the car. Although her parents were quite disapproving of it, they claimed that it was bad for her eyes, Hermione usually got away with it. Besides, she had been completely mesmerized by the descriptions and the fantastic history that the author had painstakingly made up. She felt like she had been transported to another world.

The old book was clutched tightly in her hands and the excitement was so palpable that she could almost feel a tingling on her fingertips. Before her parents had even gotten into their car, Hermione had already settled in the backseat and buried her nose into the yellowed pages.

In the fifteen minutes' drive, she had gotten through only five pages. She was so engrossed in the details of the book that the young girl hadn't felt the car come to a stop.

"Hermione!" Mrs. Granger's voice was muffled by the glass of the car window separating her and her daughter.

The bushy-haired girl's head snapped up and she looked at her mother sheepishly.

"Sorry mum." She exited the car.

"That's okay, honey," her father called out from the front steps of Gwen's house. "Just hurry up."

Hermione grinned and ran up to ring the doorbell before her father could. She heard loud footsteps and the front door was jerked open to reveal an ecstatic Gwendolyn.

"Hi Mr. and Mrs. Granger! Please come in!" The small, short-haired girl turned her attention to her best friend. "HERMIONE!"

"GWEN!"

The two girls embraced.

"I haven't seen you in _so_ long!" Gwen said as she let go of the hug.

"It's only been a month," laughed Hermione.

"But so much has happened! You were in France, Bryony went to Italy, and I was half-way across the pond in America just two weeks ago. Can you believe that?" Gwen dragged Hermione into the house and towards her room. "Imagine it! Lady Liberty, the long road trip, the California sun!" Gwen began to strike poses to illustrate her narrative.

"You _have_ gained a lot more color on your face." Hermione tucked the old book under her arm.

"Oh no, that was the worst part even though I _do_ look great now. I looked terrible. My dad finally got our photos developed and my face looks like a red tomato!" Gwen pouted.

That was the thing about Gwen that drew Hermione in. The little girl with the pixie haircut seemed so much more mature. She cared about her looks and was popular at her school. Hermione on the other hand, only had a few classmates that were friendly with her. Most of the time, she was ostracized for her intelligence.

The two girls burst into Gwen's pink room. A tall, blonde girl stood in the middle of the room with her jumper half pulled up over her shoulders.

"Hermione!" She shouted as she stuck her gangly arms through the sleeves of her black jumper.

"Bryony!" Hermione returned the greeting.

Bryony was a year younger than Hermione and Gwen, but she was already half a head taller than either of the older girls. She was long-limbed and graceful like a prima ballerina. Like Gwendolyn, Bryony was quite popular in school. But unlike her older cousin, Bryony paid no heed to the extra attention her looks garnered. After all, she was still only a child.

"What did you do in France? Did you eat lots of sweets?" Bryony was quick to ask.

"Yes! Do tell us all about it," Gwen chimed in eagerly.

The three girls fell into an easy chatter punctuated by many squeals. Hermione described her trip and she exclaimed in equal enthusiasm at Bryony's description of the pasta and pizza that she had eaten. Once it was clear that Bryony was only going to talk about the food, Gwen took over and began talking about her trip to America. This caught Hermione's interest. Gwen's brilliant older brother wanted to apply to universities over there and so their family had decided to take a road trip to visit all of the schools there. They had gone from Columbia in New York City all the way to Stanford in California.

"I think I will take the same path as your brother," Hermione announced to Gwen.

"Don't! I'm fine with Gavin leaving the country, but I don't want you to leave," Gwen grabbed the brown-haired girl's arm.

"Me neither!" wailed Bryony as she copied her older cousin and clung to Hermione.

"I don't want to leave you two either, but I want to experience more exciting things and to more about a different culture." Hermione used her free arm to give both girls a hug. "Besides, it will be eight years from now. It'll take ages until I'm done with everything."

Bryony pouted unhappily, but Gwen grinned.

"You're right. Besides, if Gavin decides to stay in the States, then I could always use him as an excuse to go visit you."

Seeing her cousin relax, Bryony let go of Hermione. She gave her friend a stern look and pushed her blonde strands away from her face so that she could stare straight into Hermione's eyes.

"Then you've got to play with me as much as you can while you're still here."

"Of course I will." Hermione smiled.

With that matter settled, the play date went along smoothly. Hermione showed the two cousins her book and described its contents in the best way to capture her friends' attentions. The show-and-tell quickly became a heated discussion about what the girls were going to do for Hermione's birthday.

"We must throw a party!" Gwen insisted.

"Yes, with cake!" agreed Bryony.

"But it's on a school day," protested Hermione. "I'll have assignments by then."

"Then the weekend?" suggested Gwen.

"I'll have to ask my parents about it," answered Hermione.

The girls were called down for supper and the conversation about Hermione's birthday was forgotten for the day. Once supper was done, Hermione and her parents went back home.

In the days leading up to the start of the term, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that she had forgotten something, but she had been caught up in the preparation that she didn't realize that she had forgotten her book at Gwen's house.

On the day of Hermione's eleventh birthday, she had already been in school for over a week. Just like all of the previous years, she was alone. She spent the school day awkwardly receiving well wishes from her teachers and silently ignoring her classmates' disinterest.

To make matters worse, her father picked her up alone, because her mother was entertaining a guest at home. They had promised to take her to her favorite bookstore in London and now her birthday was going to be ruined by an unexpected guest.

Once the car pulled into the driveway, Hermione quickly left her dad and trudged into her house. She was about do the rudest thing she could think of and to go straight to her room without greeting her parents' guest, but she couldn't ignore a strange draw that pulled her steps towards the living room.

Her feet took her and planted her right in front of a tall, older woman. She had on a very strange outfit and was peering at Hermione with a stern expression on her face.

The woman spoke first. "So this is Ms. Granger."

"Um... yes. H-hello," stammered Hermione.

"Hermione, this is Professor McGonagall. She's an instructor at a school named Hogwarts and you've been chosen to study there," Mrs. Granger had just emerged from the kitchen with a steaming kettle.

"Hogwarts?" Hermione blanched. She suddenly remembered the book she had forgotten at Gwen's house. It was titled with the same name: _Hogwarts, A History_. Was this a dream? Had she been so engrossed in the book that she was now dreaming about it?

"Yes, Ms. Granger. As I've explained to your parents before, you are a special young woman and, because of that, you'll be expected to attend Hogwarts next September," Professor McGonagall explained.

"But I've never heard of such a school! I'm going to go to Wycombe Abbey," Hermione said with a tinge of pride in her voice. It was something she had proclaimed quite often to impress the adults.

Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall was not easily impressed. She simply raised an eyebrow. Giving Hermione a quick once over, the willowy woman reached into her cape and pulled out a thin stick. She used the stick to point at the fireplace and blue flames immediately erupted from the hearth.

Hermione yelped in surprise. "What did you just do?" She was at once intrigued and apprehensive.

She walked closer to the fireplace. The fire roared with vivacity in a brilliant blue color, but as Hermione neared the dancing flames, she realized that she could feel no heat nor smell anything burning. Upon looking closer, she realized that the logs within the fireplace were also unaffected. It was almost as if the flames were running upon...

"Magic," the little girl whispered in awe.

"Precisely so, Ms. Granger. You're a witch."

And that's it for the first chapter! Reviews would be much appreciated. By the way, Gwendolyn and Bryony won't be major parts of the story. They're just in here to give Hermione moral support further along in the story even though they probably will never find out about Hermione being a witch.


	2. Chapter 1

Here's another chapter! Hope you all like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 1

It had been almost a year since Hermione Granger had discovered that she was a witch. Even now, she was surprised at how easily she had accepted the news. Being a witch conflicted with the most logical side of herself, but as the realities of it sunk in and as she thought back to all the strange occurrences that have happened to her, Hermione Granger realized that the unbelievable truth was the only explanation for her life.

What else would explain the time when she had wished so badly for a book and it had appeared in her satchel three weeks before the release date?

Or the time when she had been locked in a broom closet by Patricia Reeding and somehow found herself standing on the other side of the door listening to little Patricia bawling her eyes out with the cleaning supplies?

And what other explanation would there be for what had happened when Hermione had walked into her room after Professor McGonagall had left? The little girl had almost screamed with joy at finding her copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ nestled between her stuffed toys. A book that should have been long forgotten about at Gwen's home in the next town over.

It was magic. It could only be that.

Hermione smiled at the thought. She felt sad at giving up her dreams of going to Wycombe Abbey, but she also felt excited to go to a school where she truly belonged to. She had magic and the other students there also had magic; they shared common ground. She hoped to become friends with her new classmates.

 _Witches and wizards_ , Hermione mused to herself. _I wonder what they're like_.

She was on her way to finding out today. While she did have further correspondence from Hogwarts, the past year had been mostly free of brushes with magic. Even her accidental magic had not flared up, although that may have been due to her increased awareness for it and the subsequent control that came with.

"Here we are!" a gaudily dressed witch announced to Hermione and her parents. "Diagon Alley!"

The witch gestured to a solid brick wall. They were standing just a stone's throw away from a busy intersection in the middle of London and Hermione was beginning to think that they had been tricked by a panderer pretending to be their guide. The young witch looked to her parents for support, but they looked like they were completely out of their element.

Thankfully, the woman was genuinely a witch. She took out a thin stick which Hermione now knew to be a wand and tapped at a brick near a rubbish bin.

The bricks immediately began to shift and move to reveal a scene straight out of a storybook. Little shops lined each side of the alley and witches and wizards bustled in and out. The buildings looked like they were from another century and, combined with the strange magical wares being sold, Hermione felt like she had stepped into an old fantasy novel. She heard the gasps of her parents, but she was too excited to turn back to them.

"Mum! Dad! Let's go!" She shouted.

Their guide took them first to Gringotts; a bank ran by goblins. They exchanged their pounds for strange coins: gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts.

Their second stop was to get a cauldron. There was only one option for a first-year student and so they were in and out of the shop quickly.

The third stop was a shop named Scribbulus and Hermione did a considerable amount of damage there. She had gotten rolls and rolls of parchment along with multiple quills and three boxes of inkwells to go with.

After that, she was taken to get her robes and Hermione inwardly laughed at how strange the clothing was in the wizarding world. Shirts and jeans were her usual clothes when she wasn't at school while the robes for Hogwarts made even her school uniform seem downright casual, but Hermione did not mind the change in uniform. She assumed that the whole of this magical world operated in a much more traditional manner than the Muggle—she had learned of this word from _Hogwarts: A History_ —world did.

After getting her robes fitted, Hermione was whisked away by her tour guide to Ollivanders to get her wand. The bushy-haired girl felt like she was about to burst with giddiness. A wand! A wand!

Ollivanders turned out to be a dinky little shop. There wasn't much space for Hermione to move around in and the shelves that lined the walls were filled with stacks and stacks of little boxes. She briefly wondered if the shop was abandoned as her feet kicked up little swirls of dust as she stepped inside.

"Hello, miss. Are you here to purchase a wand?" A voice rang out from the back of the shop.

"Uh, yes," Hermione replied.

"Good, good." A wizened old man appeared. "I am Garrick Ollivander and I made all of the wands in this shop. I assume you are going to be a first year?"

Hermione nodded nervously. In a flurry of motion, the young girl found herself with a wand in her hand and an expectant grin from the shop's owner. She wished to turn to her parents for support, but they had chosen to wait outside with their guide.

"Try it!" encouraged Ollivander.

"Is there a spell?" Hermione gestured with the wand. Suddenly, the stale air of the shop began to swirl around, increasing with intensity until her hair whipped into her eyes and her ears roared from furious gales. And just when she was about to scream in fear, the wind disappeared. Ollivander had plucked the wand from her hands.

"No, no, no. The ten inch yew won't do." Ollivander waved his wand and the wand returned to its box. He waved his wand again and all of the merchandise that had been scattered by the wind returned neatly back onto the shelves with just as much dust as before.

They tried a few more wands with disastrous results. It wasn't until the sixth wand where Hermione felt like she had found the one.

It was a ten and three quarters inch vine wand with a dragon's heartstring core. The weight and length felt perfect. Unlike the wands before, this one was almost as familiar as a pencil was.

Hermione took a deep breath, hoping her intuition was right, and waved the wand.

A shower of sparks spewed from the wandtip. The girl yelped and almost dropped the wand. She felt a wave of disappointment flow over her. This wasn't the right one after all.

But Ollivander thought differently.

"Wonderful!" he clapped his hands together. "This one is perfect for you. Might be a bit temperamental, but definitely taking to you well."

Hermione smiled weakly.

Ollivander noticed her apprehension. "Don't worry m'dear. Sparks are a good thing. Sparks are wonderful! No need to be so afraid. They didn't burn you."

The girl relaxed. "Thank you for your help Mr. Ollivander."

"It's always my pleasure."

Her parents then came in with their guide to pay for the wand. Hermione's excitedly told her parents about what had just transpired. She described how each wand reacted differently and while her father listened with interest, Mrs. Granger looked on in mild horror at the tale of wayward magic.

They all headed to the last stop: Flourish and Blotts.

Hermione was practically bouncing down Diagon Alley at the thought of going to a magical bookstore, but, just when they were about to set foot inside, Mrs. Granger stopped the group.

"We have to go back to the bank," Hermione's mother announced. "I have to exchange a bit more money."

Hermione pouted and stood her ground. "Can't you go there without me? I'll just be in the shop."

"I'll stay with her," Mr. Granger offered his wife. "You two can go to the bank. I'm feeling a bit worn from all of this shopping."

Mrs. Granger agreed. Hermione smiled and turned on her heel to dash into Flourish and Blotts. Her father followed behind.

The inside of the store was everything that Hermione wanted. Books were stacked into towers and thousands of tomes lined the shelves on each wall. There were aisles and aisles to peruse through and Hermione was eager to check them all out.

"Hermione, dear. I'll just rest here." Mr. Granger pointed to an armchair near a pile of books.

"Okay, dad. Then I'll go see what there is to purchase."

Hermione walked straight into the aisles. The bookshelves towered above her head and Hermione unhappily wondered how she was going to reach those books. Luckily, a section on history caught her eye. It was near the back of the store. Not too many shoppers were around and the noises from outside were muffled by the rows of bookshelves. It was the perfect place to read. And if these books were anything like _Hogwarts: A History,_ then maybe one of these books would become her next purchase.

Hermione quickly set to work. She ran her fingertips along the spines of the books, marveling at how a few of the books seemed to react to her touch. Browsing up and down the shelves, she pulled a smaller book out. It was titled _Mystics and Ancients of the Far East: A Look Into the 12_ _th_ _Century._ A cursory glance inside was enough for Hermione to put the book back inside; most of the writings weren't in English.

The second book Hermione chose was titled _Alchemical Texts of The First Millennium._ It was over two thousand pages long, but at least everything was explained in English. Hermione sat down at a nearby reading nook and delved into her pick.

She was only on the second chapter when somebody interrupted her.

"That book isn't very accurate."

Hermione looked up.

A young boy around her age stood in front of her. He was odd looking, with pale skin and even paler hair. But what made him even weirder was his clothing. He was impeccably dressed in black trousers, a smart-looking vest, and leather shoes. A black cloak was folded over his arm and a smug expression adorned his face.

"Why do you say that?" asked Hermione.

"It's the first edition. Chapter twenty and twenty-two were complete farces. The dates were all wrong and two of the sources were frauds, though they've corrected it in the third edition."

"Oh," Hermione got up. "I'll just read the third edition, instead."

"That's impossible. It isn't out, yet." The boy's smug expression grew.

"Then how do you know about it?" Hermione felt a bit annoyed. This boy was taking up her precious reading time.

"My great-great-aunt was the author," the boy grinned. "I have a lot of the original manuscripts at home."

This piqued Hermione's interest.

"So you've actually handled them?" the girl asked with wide eyes.

"Of course not!" the boy replied. "My father would never let me near such things. But once I'm head of the house, they'll be mine."

"Well that's not very interesting," Hermione closed the book. "If this edition is so faulty, then I'll just have to wait for that third edition. Do you have any recommendations for now?"

The boy gleefully took a book from the fifth shelf, one that Hermione could not have reached.

"Here," he handed the book to her. "This one's much better. Neither outdated nor filled with superfluous words. Also, I've met the author before. He knows this subject well."

Hermione looked at the massive book in her hands. It was bound in dragon leather or at least that's what she assumed what it was. Normal leather just didn't feel this stiff. The cover was surprisingly blank, but the book's title was on the spine and glinted in gold leaf.

"Encyclopedia of the Arcane," Hermione read out loud. Her face split into a grin. She looked up to thank the boy, but was cut off by a man's voice calling from behind on of the bookshelves.

"Draco, quit dawdling. We must go, now."

The boy's demeanor immediately changed. He stiffened his posture and the smug look on his face was wiped clean.

"Coming, father!" Draco called out before leaving in the direction of the man's voice. He seemed to forget that he had been just talking to Hermione.

"How rude," Hermione said to herself. She wasn't actually mad at the boy. After spending all of her primary school days alone, she grew to understand why many of the children acted the way they did.

Draco was, just like many of her classmates, fearful of his father's displeasure. She didn't dwell too much on it. Her mother was probably back and so Hermione set off to search for her parents with _Encyclopedia of the Arcane_ firmly tucked under her arm.

And that's all for this chapter! Thanks for reading.


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